Sweet Dreams
by Gothika Faerie
Summary: Frollo/Esmeralda. Esmeralda's marriage to Phoebus isn't working out. In fact, it's grown downright dull. So, she indulges in a little sweet dream. Not a songfic.


Title: Sweet Dreams

Summary: After a year of marriage, Esmeralda feels like her life is as dull as ditchwater. There was no excitement, no fire in her relationship. Phoebus seemed to grow colder every single day. So, no one can blame her for indulging in a sweet dream. Frollo/Esmeralda.

Genre: Romance/Angst

Rated: T for suggestive themes and angst

A/N: Based on the song 'Sweet Dreams' by Beyonce. I don't own anything from the movie or the book.

Esmeralda sighed in unhappiness before beginning the tiresome routine of clearing away the dirty dishes left behind from dinner. She scoffed, remembering Phoebus' lame excuse about patrolling the city for criminals. She knew he was either out drinking whiskey at the tavern or cavorting with some other much more enchanting dancing girls whom did a lot more than just dance. Strangely enough, the gypsy couldn't care less. She hadn't really cared that much for anything nowadays after her marriage to Phoebus.

He wasn't a terrible husband. In fact, far from it. He treated her well and supplied her with her every want and need. Esmeralda smiled wistfully while she reminisced their finer moments. Back when they were still in their honeymoon phase and acting like a couple of lovesick newlyweds. He took her to gaze at the sunset, took her out dancing and kissed her whenever he felt she needed it. Nowadays, he was stone cold and barely touched her anymore. All real affection seemed to evaporate after their fourth month of marriage. He hardly paid any attention to what she said. He didn't compliment her whenever she had a new dress on or when her hair was styled differently. He didn't call her by affectionate nicknames any longer. She seldom got kissed anymore. As for lovemaking…that was plain non-existent for over eight months now.

Whenever he came home, he'd toss his helmet on the table and prattle on about his latest escapade with a couple of thieves. No kiss. No hug. Not even a 'Hello, dear'. It took all of her willpower for her to not want to impale him with the iron poker nestled near the fireplace. After dinner, he'd inform he was going out and won't be back by nightfall. Esmeralda accepted this routine long ago after she discovered there was nothing else she could do to brighten and salvage their marriage.

She tried conducting candlelight dinners for him, offering him massages even waiting at home in nothing but a night chemise and with a rose in her mouth. The minute he walked in and saw her racy display and devilish smirk, he simply yawned, told her he was tired and drowsed on the chair. Esmeralda grew distraught and neglected day by day. Not only was the emotional coldness hard to bear but also her sexual desires were driving her to insanity. She longed for Phoebus to sweep her in his arms, carry her to their marriage bed and ravage her until there was nothing left to ravage. Fat chance of that ever happening. He didn't even kiss her anymore! Besides, Esmeralda couldn't help but feel that sex with Phoebus wasn't as incredibly breathtaking as she might have hoped. On their wedding night, she was as excited as a little child at one of Clopin's puppet shows. She donned a new green silk and lacy peignoir that matched her dazzling eyes perfectly. She had fantasized about this moment for so very long. Lying on her bed provocatively, she awaited her husband's arrival.

Imagine her disappointment when it finally happened. Phoebus came strutting in, looking at her lustfully. She smirked back in response. He immediately lunged towards her and kissed her rather sloppily. Esmeralda had been shocked badly by his roughness. He was practically slobbering all over mouth and neck, his tongue probing violently. She actually felt more repulsed than aroused by his ministrations. Due to her lack of arousal, penetration proved to be more painful than expected and well, it wasn't passionate. He didn't pay her body and more attention. All he was more focused on was to make love to her. Esmeralda was enraged as well as dissatisfied as he pounded into her with ecstasy. When it all ended, he simply collapsed next to her and rolled over onto his side of the bed. No goodnight kiss. No cuddling. She had never been so miserable in her entire life. She had spent the rest of the night, crying about how her fantasy had been nothing but just a childish dream. She didn't even feel one tingling sensation when he caressed her. All she felt was a discomfort in her private area and aching in her lips and neck. Not exactly the most perfect first night. She had hoped that their lovemaking grew more romantic after that disastrous first time. It never did. He'd grunt and groan on top of her while she lay completely listless and bored. His movements were bumpy and he couldn't even find her sweet spot. He didn't last long either. So, lovemaking became another letdown in their marriage next to his ignorance.

Esmeralda groaned in exasperation. She dreaded being stuck with this man for all eternity. What on Earth drew him to her in the first place? She laughed without mirth as she remembered exactly what. His pretty boy looks, golden armor and heroic attempts to save her. How shallow and vacant she was back then. Perhaps this was punishment for her inability to judge a book by its cover. She whipped off her apron and tossed it carelessly to the floor. If Phoebus was losing interest, so be it. She couldn't care less. She plopped herself down tiredly onto a stool facing the fireplace. It wasn't lit and ashes gathered at the bottom, swaying slightly due to the wind. The fireplace. Nowadays, she discovered looking at it gave her a sense of serenity. It was weird but she felt it comforted her somehow. Not to mention, it reminded her of someone. Someone whom had truly loved her. Someone who went insane due to his undying love to her. Someone who was brazen, passionate, devoted and determined to have her. Someone so stone cold and evil, she despised him. Someone who made her tingle when he touched her. Someone whose robes were as black as the ashes scattered in the fireplace. Esmeralda's eyes widened. How long had it been since his death? No one really bothered to mourn for him except for the ministers and officials in Paris. No relatives. No friends. Definitely no civilians. Esmeralda, herself didn't attend the service, however, she felt it polite to at least visit his grave. She had been cold towards him, even as he laid pushing daises.

She remembered her harsh words.

"You died as you lived. Cold, unappreciated, alone, loveless and miserable. Don't take my visit as an act of kindness. I'm only doing what I think is proper decorum. Hard to believe a gypsy girl knows what proper decorum is, isn't it?" It would have been funny if her declaration hadn't been followed by a powerful gust of wind. Esmeralda regretted her bitter words. Especially since she knew that he died due to his frantic lust for her. Secretly, when he plummeted into the fiery lake, clutching the gargoyle in vain, she actually felt…sorry.

"What am I thinking? I don't miss Frollo! And I most certainly don't feel sorry for his death!! It was his fault anyway." But as much as she ranted, the words rang no truth in her ear. It was a known fact that once someone lost a person she loves, she finds herself wanting the company of someone she could barely stand. Sighing, now more out of lethargy, her heavy eyelids began to close. Soon, she found herself drowsing on that wooden stool. Little did she know the ashes stirred and circled in the air.

And there was no wind.

_Esmeralda's first thought was 'Where am I?" as she gazed around her whereabouts. The place was familiar to her almost instantly as she looked at it. It was Notre Dame cathedral! But when and how did she get here? This must be a dream, she thought. The church looked as beautiful as the day she was trapped inside, forced to claim sanctuary. There was hardly anyone here. The Archdeacon wasn't even there to start a service. She was completely alone. Well, almost completely alone. _

"_Hello, my dear. It's been a very long time since I've had the pleasure to be in your presence." Esmeralda whipped around, her breath caught in her throat. She recognized that deep, charismatic baritone anywhere. There, emerging from behind a stone pillar was Frollo. He didn't look at all different. He still had his trademark cunning smirk on his face and he was still dressed in his billowy velvet robe and triangular chaperon. What was he doing here? Why was he occupying her dreams? She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you doing here? Invading my dreams?" She spat defiantly, a sign of the old Esmeralda. Frollo raised an eyebrow, showing mock disappointment. _

"_My goodness, gypsy girl, no 'hello'? I thought you said you knew something about proper decorum as you spat it on my grave." His tone grew sinister at the last part of that sentence. Esmeralda stiffened. "You heard me?" She asked, growing scared. Even dead, he still frightened her so. He had that intimidating air about him. Even without his huge army of soldiers. He chuckled darkly; his laugh reminded her of thunder booming through a rainy night. _

"_I hear and see many things. Particularly seeing your recent marriage to my ex-captain of the guards," He looked sickened as he recalled that. Esmeralda couldn't help but feel triumphant that he was jealous. At least something good came out of her marriage to Phoebus. Even if this triumph was entirely bittersweet. Her happiness disappeared when she noticed a knowing smirk on his gaunt face. Oh, that wasn't a good sign. "However, I noticed that you aren't at all that happy married to him." Esmeralda wanted to profusely deny his accusation but that would only confirm his suspicions. Instead, she folded her arms and turned her head icily away from him. _

"_You're dead. You don't know as much as you think. Besides, I don't care for your judgment or opinions any longer," Frollo snickered at her cold statement. He moved closer towards her and placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. She faked a groan of disgust and shoved him away. Truthfully, his touch sent a tingle through her spine. Something she hadn't felt in so long. "Is that what you really think while you were sitting in front of the fireplace in utter depression?" Esmeralda stifled a gasp and turned back to him in amazement. He smirked at her shock before stroking her cheek. "I know you miss me, my dear. There's no need to lie about that." Esmeralda gritted her teeth at him. Why did he have to be so right? She denied that she ever missed him but was it really true? Now having him right beside her made everything all the more complicated. He moved a little closer and she could actually catch a whiff of him. He smelled of charcoal, red wine and velvet. And of course a man's masculine aroma. His scent made her shiver unknowingly. She had to remain strong though. She knocked his hand away and glared daggers at him. _

"_So I miss you. So what? It does not change our hateful history and how I feel about you," Frollo rolled her eyes at her feisty defiance. He was probably thinking she was a stubborn little witch. Well, fine by her. She wanted out of this dream. "Is that true, my dear? If so, why are you not dreaming about your darling Sun God? Why is it your subconscious conjured up a picture with me in it?" Esmeralda pursed her lips. How was he always three steps ahead of her? She refused to meet his gaze now._

"_The mind dreams what it wants. However, you are most likely not what I want. Besides, aren't you supposed to be burning in the bowels of Hell?" She cringed and regretted her words when she saw a dark shadow overpower Frollo's features. She knew that was a huge sore spot for him, being a pious man of God and all. Wait, why was she feeling sorry for him? She hardly ever did. "I already did, Esmeralda. But it may seem, I'm given a chance at redemption. I believe that's partly the reason I came to see you." He reached out to stroke her face again. Esmeralda backed away from him. Redemption? Why would he given another chance? He was mean, cruel, prejudiced, and hateful and had some sick penchant for genocide. He spoke again, more gentler now. A tone she never dreamt she'd hear from him._

"_I've seen how unhappy you are with my ex-captain. He doesn't shower you with affection. He doesn't listen to you. And it also seems he has failed in fulfilling your desires." He ended that speech with a little smirk. Esmeralda scoffed and, without thinking, coyly added. "Oh, and you can?" Whoa, where'd that come from? Did she drink before falling asleep? His granite eyes sparked like fire at her mocking words. He grabbed her arm and spun her towards him, terrifying her. _

"_I know I can," Before she had a chance to protest, he furiously claimed her lips as his. Esmeralda gasped and started to struggle in his tight grip. However, she soon stopped resisting after he valiantly massaged his tongue against hers. She released a little moan of appreciation. Never had a man rendered her so helpless with a kiss. And this kiss was beyond passionate. It was fiery, feverish and it stirred a warm, tingling sensation within her. His slender hand slipped around her curvy waist and pulled her tightly against her. God, what was she doing, indulging in this desire? She was married. But she wasn't even happy. And it was high time she got what she wanted. Besides, it had been so unbelievably long ever since she was pressed up so intimately against a man. A woman had her needs anyway. He pulled away to watch her expression. How victorious he felt when he saw how exhausted and flushed she was. _

_She moved away from him warily. "…Why? Why does it have to be you?" Frollo smirked and kissed her again, now leaving smoldering nibbles down her neck. He continued all the way onto her shoulder, around her collarbone, finishing by kissing hotly along her arm before ending with a loving suck on each of her knuckles. Esmeralda nearly felt like breaking down crying. When was the last time a man practically worshipped her bare skin like that? Taking considerable effort to suck and kiss affectionately at all her erogenous zones. He than trailed butterfly kisses down to the valley between her breasts. Oh God. She moaned, her body feeling feverish and tingly. _

"_He doesn't deserve you, Esmeralda," He whispered, hoisting her skirt up a little. His marble hand slithered up against her inner thigh and he caressed it adoringly. Flames were erupting in her every synapse. How could he make her feel this way? How could he make her feel like such a desirable woman? "He doesn't tell you you're beautiful. He doesn't shower you with all the love you ever needed. He doesn't touch you with wild abandon. He doesn't treat your body as though it were a temple. I would. And I always will." His kiss seared her skin, making her feel light-headed. She found herself swooning and moaning softly in his dark embrace. To think the same man that caused her so much trauma and sadness could make her feel like the happiest creature on Earth. _

_Next thing she knew they were in a bedroom and he gently grasped her hands. "Come, my dear." He led her towards the silken sheets. And for once, Esmeralda didn't defy him. He kissed more passionately than ever, nibbling on her bottom lip. She ended up on her back with him straddling her. "Don't resist me, you know you can't." He warned her, sucking on the ample top part of her bountiful breast. She looked into his granite eyes endearingly and yearningly. _

"_I don't intend to." She breathed out words onto his soft, dark lips. Before she knew it, clothing was frenziedly torn off and they were tussling and tangled on the sheets. Esmeralda drew in hissing breaths; in her mind she saw fiery sparks not even the finest alcohol could produce. Looking up at Frollo rutting above her, she discovered he never looked more incredible. His silver hair was sweat tousled and hung limply from his head. His breathing came out deeply, his broad chest expanding with every inhale. He looked amazing. He was amazing. So long without love and to finally have it, was indescribable. Every little gentle stroke and caress left her breathless and ravenous for more. This was the kind of lovemaking she had been hoping for. Gentle yet violent. Feverish yet loving. Passionate yet romantic._

"_Frollo," She whimpered. He kissed her protectively on her cheek. "I'm here. And I'll always be here for you. Every single lonely night you have, I'll be there." Finally, he brought them crashing through that immense wall of ecstasy and pleasure. Esmeralda screeched his name, digging her nails into his moonlight skin. He roared, burying his face into her hair, inhaling her exotic scent. Heavenly bliss descended upon them as the scorching climaxes ebbed away. She found herself cradled lovingly in his strong arms. He kissed her forehead, wishing her a goodnight. _

"_Will you really still be here?" He smiled, not a conniving smile, but one of happiness. "I am a man of my word. I promise I'll be there for every single night you dream." Esmeralda mewed in response and dozed off in the crook of his neck. _

Esmeralda woke up with a jolt. How long had she dozed off on her stool? She glanced back at the fireplace and noticed, very strangely, that the ashes were scattered to form the shape of a heart. She stood up, confused and oddly satisfied. She had dreamt about Frollo kissing her, pleasing her…loving her. It was just a dream. But such a dream! So full of raw passion. She remembered him saying he'd be there every single night of her life. Did he mean it?

"It was a dream. Dreams don't mean a…" She paused when she caught sight of a little note on her table. She raised an eyebrow. She didn't remember anyone else entering her home. She picked it up and unfolded it. It was written in a graceful French cursive and dated tonight.

_Sweet dreams, my dear Esmeralda,_

_Expect me tomorrow night, same time._

Esmeralda gasped as she eyed the signature at the end of the note.

_Your secret lover, Claude Frollo_

Was it really just a sweet dream? Just a beautiful nightmare? I leave you to decide, dear readers. Although we can agree on one thing, Esmeralda most definitely doesn't ever want to wake up from Frollo ever again.

A/N: Well, there you go. Huh, it's not my best. I highly recommend you to listen to Beyonce's song 'Sweet Dreams'. It's amazing! Read and review, please.


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